Hanukkah Menorah
by CrowNoYami
Summary: Case-Fic. After three victims are killed in a Christmas -decorated neighborhood Sam and Dean take the case. Part 20 of Advent Calendar 2017


**Authors Note** **: I'm sorry if I offend anyone, I know nothing about Hanukkah, anything mentioned is due to a quick Google search. If I get anything wrong, please let me know and I'll try to fix it.**

 **Warnings** **: Violence, Ghost. No Romance. Case-fic.**

*** Special notice: I am in the process of deleting my other account and migrating the fics to this one. Please note that the prompts for this series were pictures.

 **Hanukkah Menorah**

"Well, that explains body number three."

Turning to his brother, Dean couldn't help but wince at the look on the others face. Whatever connection Sam found between the victims, Dean had a feeling it wasn't going to be anything good. Pulling Sam aside, Dean lowered his voice as not to be heard by the patrolling officers. "What did you find?" Sam didn't hesitate to answer.

"Christmas decorations, every one of the vic's went all out on their decorations. Look at the place Dean, every single one looks like it belongs on an episode of The Great Christmas Light Fight."

Glancing at the house, Dean couldn't argue the fact, every one of the houses looked like they spent thousands on their lights alone, not counting any extras on their lawn. While Dean appreciated people who decorated for the holidays, there was a point where it was too over the top, especially as Thanksgiving had only been a couple days ago. Shrugging his shoulders, Dean spoke. "So, what do you think we have here? No forced entry, no signs of a struggle and three dead guys who seemingly died of fear. Think it could be a witch? Maybe there is some kind of competition?"

Even though Dean personally believed it to be stupid for people to kill over a light competition it wouldn't be the first time. Monsters, he got, people were crazy.

"I don't think so, I checked the room and there's nothing, no hex bags or anything. The only thing I did find was this," Sam held up his hand holding a small tissue with a bit of red inside. Taking the tissue from his brother, Dean brought it to his nose and inhaled, not scenting anything, Dean touched the red substance with his finger only for it to break slightly. "Wax?" asked Dean, looking up at Sam who was glancing at the house across the street.

"Yeah, found it on the window where he was killed. Kind of matches doesn't it?" asked Sam, jerking his head slightly to the window across the street. Unlike the rest of the houses, this one wasn't decorated at all, only a single window with a nine-candle candelabra, its red wax of the three lit candles matching perfectly to the bit of wax in the tissue. "Guess we're gonna have to come back later, tonight?"

Sam nodded his head before making his excuses for them both to the locals they had been working with. Glancing at the house again, Dean noticed a man looking out his window, his face pale and eyes wide while looking at the scene of cop cars across from his home. Dean kept his gaze off the man as much as possible, not wanting to spook him but wanting to observe. The man was older, probably in his late sixties to early seventies, a black kippah secured on his head. Looking at the man, Dean wondered why he would do this, kill these people. Shrugging his shoulders, Dean looked back at Sam as the man disappeared behind his curtain.

That night Dean returned to the neighborhood, Sam had wanted to circle the house and try and find a way into the house through the back door while Dean went to the front. Knocking on the door, Dean wasn't expecting the man he had seen in the window answer, still, after a minute of listening to someone making their way to the door, it swung open to reveal the man Dean had seen.

"Can I help you?"

Dean didn't know what to do for a second. Looking at the man closely Dean noticed that while he was a bit washed out, this was no ghost and the way he was moving showed he probably wasn't a witch either. Even if this was their guy, Dean didn't know if it would be right to try and take him out.

"I'm sorry to bother you, I work with the police and there have been a series of murders in your area. I was hoping I would be able to come in and ask you a few questions." The man looked Dean over for a second before nodding his head and stepping back from the door in invitation. Stepping into the house, Dean gave the place a quick glance. There wasn't anything suspicious, the only thing that seemed out of place once he was into the home following behind the man, was a more elaborate version of the candelabra he had seen in the window. This one seemed old, older than the man even and held a place of honor on the mantel. Stepping towards it, Dean turned back to the man who was now sitting on his armchair.

"That's been in my family for generations, you can look closer if you like it's a lot sturdier than I am that's for sure."

Taking the invitation Dean crept up closer, observing around to see if there was anything out of place. Turning back to the man, Dean noticed the change instantly, shouting out Dean rushed the man who was now glaring at him. With movements no man his age should be able to accomplish, the man stood and grabbed the lamp which had been sitting to the side and swung at Dean. Ducking, Dean noticed Sam coming into the room, presumably having been able to locate another way inside.

"Dean!"

The shout made Dean glance at Sam who was now seemingly fighting against an invisible force. Knowing the spirit they were dealing with had already taken three lives, Dean didn't waste time. Ducking under the next swing, Dean pulled his handgun out of the back of his pants and hit the man with the back of the gun before turning and darting towards the Hanukkah menorah. Gripping a vial of salt from inside his jack, Dean heard the distinctive sound of Sam's punch connecting with flesh.

Dean didn't pause before pulling out his Zippo and tossing it at the candelabra. As the flames danced on the metal, Dean turned to the old man who was screaming. Sam had stepped aside, his hand holding Ruby's knife while Dean watched the man coughed violently before collapsing on the ground. After a moment Sam knelt beside the man and pressed his fingers to his throat, getting a faint pulse, Dean grabbed a nearby phone and started dialing for help.

Sam was quick to grab their things, and before the ambulance could show up, they were gone. Sighing behind the wheel of the Impala an hour later, Dean couldn't help but shoot a look at Sam. "So, what all did you find anyways?"

Before entering the house, Sam had stated he thought he knew who was haunting the place, the old man's father. While he had passed long before, it was only recently his remains were claimed and burnt, leaving his worldly possessions to his son. Sam shrugged his shoulders before grimacing slightly, his shoulder injured from where he had been thrown against the wall before he managed to fight it off.

"Aharon Brownstein seemed like a typical guy until just before his death. Seemed his only real fault was he hated Christmas, every victim was one who went overboard with their Christmas decorations. I guess he didn't appreciate it."

Dean glanced over at Sam again, the Impala rumbling as she moved. "Seriously? He killed people because of decorations?" getting a shrug from Sam, Dean whistled slightly before turning back to the road. "I tell ya, Sammy… people are crazy."

"Tell me about it," responded Sam. "Hey, Dean?" asked Sam a smirk on his face that Dean could practically hear. Grunting his reply, Sam chuckled slightly while speaking. "Happy Hanukkah."

Laughing, Dean continued to drive, leaving the town behind in the rear-view mirror.


End file.
